


DIY or Die Tag

by Alliemackenzie28, MedicBaymax



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Concussions, Gen, Hurt MacGyver, Hurt/Comfort, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 19:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12260421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alliemackenzie28/pseuds/Alliemackenzie28, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MedicBaymax/pseuds/MedicBaymax
Summary: We watched the first scene of Season 2 and just had to take the consequences to their logical, whumpy conclusion.





	DIY or Die Tag

**Author's Note:**

> This isn’t super finished; we just kinda went as far as we wanted to and then moved on to talking about tetrodotoxin and the side effects of scopolomine. So! Here’s some wobbly, semiconscious Mac and worried Jack for you to enjoy. Jack written by @alliemackenzie28. Mac written by @medicbaymax. Find us both on Tumblr too!

Jack tried to lean forward so the back of his head didn't his Mac's when the guy punched him, but it was only working about half the time. In spite of Jack's goading words, the thug hit hard, and while Jack knew how to take a punch, knew how long he could last, knew how to draw it out, he wasn't so sure about Mac. The kid had taken at least as many punches as Jack had, plus he'd been thrown into a stone wall head first while they'd been trying to escape their captors. Finally his opening came, and Jack had their tormentor on the ground in seconds. Flicking the ropes free of his own hands, he twisted around to look at the other man. "Mac?"  
\--------------  
Mac let the sharpened button fall to the floor. He'd felt Jack get up, but for some reason he wasn't getting up himself. Weird. He blinked, staring at the ground in front of him. Stone. Nicely laid. Jack was doing something. He couldn't tell what. He should help. He swallowed a mouthful of spit and blood. His wrists were still fastened behind the back of the chair. At least he'd managed to get Jack's hands free. Speaking of Jack, the man had just said his name. He swallowed again. "...Yeah?" He answered quietly. His face hurt too bad to make any more sound than that.  
\-------------  
At Mac's faint reply, Jack swung around the chairs to face his partner. Blood ran from his nose and mouth, and he looked kinda blank, like he was seeing right through Jack. Reaching around him to untie his wrists, Jack gave him a little shake. "Mac? You with me?" He looked around the courtyard, noting a few possible escape routes. "We gotta get outta here 'fore they come looking for us. Can you walk?"  
\------------  
"Mmmm" Mac groaned. Everything was kind of slow, like he wasn't quite understanding what Jack was saying. He blinked, trying to clear a weird haze from his vision. He grimaced as Jack shook him. That hurt. "Stop..." He said, trying to raise his hand to push Jack away.  
\-------------  
Mac wobbled precariously when Jack shook him, pushing a hand out at him ineffectually as soon as he was free. "They really did a number on you, didn't they?" Jack had only had one concussion before- from a snowboarding accident of all things- but he'd seen enough to know what he was looking at. "Alright, let's get outta here." He pulled Mac's arm across his shoulders, gripped his belt so their hips were pressed together, and stood up, bringing Mac with him.  
\------------  
Mac didn't have the strength to argue, or maybe just not the time to. Jack seemed to be in control of the situation and that was fine by him. Just wished he could get out of the sun. He closed his eyes and gave as much power as he could to moving wherever Jack lead. Except, that wasn't working well. With his eyes closed, his brain felt like it was screaming to process enough information to even keep him upright. And there was so much extra movement... "Jack, stop " He pleaded.  
\----------  
Jack gave Mac a moment to adjust to the change in position, but as soon as he took a step towards the door, Mac asked him to stop. "Ok, ok, we can just stay here a minute." Shit. If Mac couldn't walk, that meant Jack would have to carry him out, which meant he'd have to find a gun since he wouldn't be able to fight. Jack's own nose was throbbing and clogged with blood, and his lip was split. He'd been kicked a few times in the ribs when they'd first been taken, and his left side throbbed dully, protesting Mac's weight. He wasn't worried about himself though, except for the fact that he'd gotten spoiled to being the brawn and was now having to be the brains too, since the regular brains seemed to be scrambled. "Mac, you gotta help me out here. We're gonna walk to that door over there. You lean on me, ok?"  
\---------  
Mac squinted and tried to drop onto all fours, but Jack seemed to hold tighter upright and pull him forward. The light was still way too bright and... and he needed to puke. Really bad. Right now. "Jack lemme go..." He tried to pull away, managing only to bend over enough they didn't end up covered in it before vomiting on the nice stone floor. He stared at it for a minute. The vomit was streaked with blood and he couldn't get himself to register any weight to that. He felt better. His jaw didn't feel like it belonged to him. "'kay" he swallowed, nearly gagging again as a combination of pain and the vile taste of blood and stomach contents hit the back of his throat. But he could make it now. The sun had to stop.  
\-----------  
Mac struggled in Jack's grip before doubling over and puking very very close to their feet. Jack backed up a step as he stared at the pink-orange puddle. Hopefully he'd swallowed blood from his nose and mouth, because if Mac was bleeding internally, they were shit outta luck. There was nothing he could do but hope, so he took a slow step around the vomit, guiding Mac with him. Jack hadn't been quite as unconscious as he'd let on when they'd been dragged into the courtyard, and he'd spotted an abandoned house a few blocks away that they might be able to hole up in until Mac could make it farther. Together, they made their slow way out of the building and into the street, where Jack kept to the cooler shady side. "Just another block to go."  
\-----------  
A block. It didn't sound like far. But they kept going, and going. He followed doggedly, wondering when they would stop. He could make it another step. Maybe even one after that. He misstepped, registered the way Jack's arms tightened around him again, keeping him from falling forward, but didn't register the pain in his ankle until three, maybe four steps later. They should be there by now. "...what're you doin Jack?" He asked. The words didn't make as much sense as he wanted them to, but he didn't know how to make them any more coherent.  
\-----------  
Mac sagged suddenly against him and Jack dragged him upright, praying to whoever might be listening that the kid made it to the little wood house he could see not 100 yards away. The question, though mumbled and slightly odd, was more words than Mac had strung together since they'd gotten free, so Jack let himself take that as a good sign. "What am I doin'? What I'm doin' is gettin' your concussed self somewhere safe till they stop lookin for us." The house, when they reached it, turned out to be more of a shack, but it wasn't locked, and it was crammed unobtrusively between two larger buildings. Maybe, if they got lucky, they wouldn't be found. Kicking the door shut, Jack let his eyes adjust to the light; he'd been right - it was definitely a house. A narrow mattress lay in the far corner, opposite a sagging couch and a kitchen area with an ancient green fridge and an electric stove. Jack lowered Mac onto the mattress, cupping the back of his head when he started tipping over, and lay him down on his side, back against the wall.  
\---------  
Suddenly things got dark and Mac almost panicked before he realized they'd made it to wherever Jack had wanted to go. Jack kept walking and Mac couldn't tell if they were going to keep going or not. He blinked. His foot hit something bouncy and Jack guided him to sit and then lay on it. He let his head lol backward onto it, before realizing something was preventing him from laying flat. He tried to roll back but it wouldn't happen. He moved his head back forward and laid against the mattress, closing his eyes against even the light coming in through the door. His mouth tasted acidic and bitter at the same time. He couldn't quite figure out what was happening, but an urgency kept cropping up in his mind. It was nice and dark, though, and even though he couldn't move his face from its painful position against the mattress, he might be able to think after he took a quick nap.


End file.
